A Spy's Choice
by xobabygurlxo
Summary: Ironic, actually. I wait two years for this moment, and I now have two hours to change my mind. *Michael/Fiona*


Disclaimer: I do not own Burn Notice or anything associated with it. This is written because we all want Fi to move up in the ranks as Michael's most important thing.

Summary: Takes place in the future. Michael finally finds out who burned him and is welcomed back to do covert ops, but will he go and leave Fiona? Again?

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"Michael!"

Sometimes my name really bugs me. Just hearing it, hearing certain people say it, makes my skin crawl. In this case, that certain person was my mother.

Sam, Fi and I had just finished yet another job; a local con artist scammed an old couple out of their life savings, blah, blah. In the past two years I've seen about 100 cases exactly the same as this one. Con artists love the elderly, which usually sucks for the elderly.

Anyway, I had actually taken a hard hit to the chest with a crowbar, so as I was laying in the backseat of Fi's car recouping, she was driving us to my mother's house for dinner. I really hate it that Fi and my mother team up together.

So now I'm sitting at my mom's table listening to Sam tell old Navy SEAL stories – the clean ones – and I'm contemplating sticking a fork in my thigh. Wouldn't be the first time I've done that at mom's house.

"What, mom?"

"Isn't that your phone ringing?" She was right, it _was_ ringing. Thank God.

I stepped outside to answer it and get some fresh air – cigarette smoke can get stifling – and was very surprised as to who was on the other end.

"Dan? What the hell are _you_ doing calling me?"

"Good news, Mikey. Your burn notice has been lifted."

My heart seemingly stops. Two years – two _years_ – I've been waiting for this call. The one that told me that I was right and they were wrong. That I could get my old life back and they would clear all my charges. That I could finally travel and leave Miami.

"What?"

"Yep. Your accounts are being unfrozen as we speak, and I expect to see your ass in D.C. as soon as possible. Got a new mission for you, my friend. Later." Click. He hung up.

That's it. It's over. I'm no longer burned. Somehow I expected there to be more than just this.

I walk back into my mom's house to see her, Sam, and Fi all laughing and having a great time. It's the first time in two years that I actually felt like I could miss them. It's a bittersweet moment.

"Who was it, Michael?" my mom asks. I don't want to bring down the mood, but, well, they'll have to find out eventually.

"My handler, Dan. Burn notice has been lifted. I'm clear to go back to work."

Silence. For the first time in my entire life, my mother's house was filled with silence. I know they didn't know what to say. Frankly, I didn't know what to say either. I wanted my burn notice to be lifted, I wanted to clear my name, and in the back of my mind I even thought I wanted to go back to work for Dan, but now…now I wasn't so sure.

"Hey, that's great, buddy," Sam said, "Congrats." I just nodded at him.

"That's great, Michael. You must be excited," my mother said with little enthusiasm. I didn't say anything.

I looked over at Fi. She just stared at her plate for a minute before excusing herself and walking out the front door. When I first reunited with Fi in Miami, I was annoyed and a little scared. I had a lot on my plate then and having to deal with my violent ex wasn't something I was looking forward to. We've re-connected – in more ways than one – over the past two years, and even though we technically weren't _together_ together, I was finding this tougher to deal with than I thought.

Which is exactly why I didn't follow Fi outside. When we left my mom's, Fi drove Sam home and then over to my place to drop me off. When we got to my loft, I hesitated. I wanted to know her feelings. I honestly valued her opinion and I knew I couldn't go back to DC with her not speaking to me.

Damn. When did I start feeling this way?

"You want to come up?" I ask her.

She shakes her head. "You probably have a lot to do before you leave. I wouldn't want to be in the way."

"Fi…" I start.

"Goodnight, Michael."

And that was the end of it. I knew if I said another word, she'd gauge my eyes out with a hairpin or something equally painful. So I just nodded, and got out of the car. As I walked up the stairs to my loft, I half-expected her to be right behind me. That feeling was gone when I heard her back out onto the road. I sighed and hung my head. What the hell am I going to do now?

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I didn't hear anything from Fi the entire next day. I wanted to call her, to go see her, but I was afraid of what would happen. I know Fi pretty well and I wouldn't put it past her to have her open the door with a casserole in one hand and an active grenade in the other. I favor my life too much to risk it. That night I was sitting in my kitchen with Sam contemplating what I was going to do about this whole going back to being a spy thing.

"What did Fi say about it?" Sam asked.

"She didn't. She dropped me off and drove away."

"Ouch," Sam laughed. I glared at him letting him know this wasn't a laughing moment. He straightened up and concentrated on his drink.

I sat there for a few more minutes before I couldn't take it any longer. "I gotta see what she's doing. I'll see you later."

As I stood up, Sam stopped me. "So when did you start falling for Fiona?" he asked with a smile on his face.

"I'm not falling for her, Sam. She's a friend and I value her opinion." I could hear Sam chuckling as I left.

When I got to Fi's place, I found her sitting in her living room cleaning her gun. The Makarov. The one I got her for her birthday a couple years ago. This is worse than I thought.

"Can I come in?" I ask, already standing in her living room.

"Shouldn't you be heading back to DC?" she asks without looking at me. Wow, she's really hurting. This is gonna be tough.

"I got myself booked on a flight for tomorrow. Only thing available." She simply nods. I look around nervously. "So…" I start.

"I'm fine, Michael."

"Yeah, yeah I know. I just came over to, um, congratulate you on a job well done the other day." Lame, I know, but she threw me off with her "I'm fine" comment.

"Look, Michael," she said, finally putting the gun down, not looking at me though. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting. This whole burn notice thing really threw me off."

I nod and sit on her coffee table across from her. "I understand," I tell her, "It threw me too, I guess."

Fi finally looks up at me. She has that look on her face – the one where she wants to cry but won't, so her eyes get all watery and she looks incredibly vulnerable. It tugs at my heart to see her like this, and all I want to do is comfort her, but once again I'm the cause of her pain. Dammit.

"I guess this is over for good then, huh?" she asks quietly. I just look at her as she continues, "I mean, you'll go off to DC and then be shipped overseas to help stop nuclear war, right?" I nod hesitantly, looking away from her. It kills me that I've hurt her again.

"What are you gonna do?" I ask her, meeting her eyes again. She shrugs. "I think I'll stay here," she finally says. I look at her in surprise. "I like it here. It's calmer here than in most places I've been."

"I thought you didn't like calm."

"I didn't think I did either. Guess people can surprise you." I nod and look away again. She does as well.

"Then, that's it," I say.

She nods once. "That's it."

I sigh and stand up, heading towards the door. She walks me to it, and just as I open it I turn around to face her again. "Fi, I just wanted to say that, well that…" Fi nods, tells me she understands, and hugs me. I can't believe how sad I feel as I pull her closer to me and bury my head in her hair. "I'm going to miss you," I whisper in her ear. She sobs once and just holds onto me tighter. I can feel her silently crying into my shirt. After a while she pulls back, and I keep my hands on her face. I brush some tears off her cheek and just look right into her eyes. She has that tough girl look on her face again, but I've learned to see behind the mask.

I finally had enough looking, and leaned down to kiss her. I didn't want to, I knew it'd be harder this way, but I couldn't help it. I needed her. I needed to taste her, to feel her lips on mine, to feel her hands running through my hair as well as up and down my body. I knew this was probably one of the last times I would be with Fi – or any woman – because contrary to what Fi thinks and what everyone else thinks, I can't move on. Not from her. I've wanted to – God knows – but Fiona is the only woman on Earth that I could see myself being with. If I'm not with her, I'm not with anyone.

I continue to kiss her, and at this point, I have her backed against the wall, my hand running up the inside of her shirt. I know I should stop, I know _she_ knows I should stop, but I can't. I have to have her.

Which is exactly why I then find myself being dragged to her bedroom by her – she always liked it a little rough – and why I find myself being thrown onto her bed with her on top of me. I flip her over so that I'm on top – always a constant struggle with us – and I comb my fingers through her hair as I attempt to take off her shirt at the same time she's taking mine off. After we have that settled, I start devouring her neck. She smells so good, tastes so good, and I can hear her groan my name in my ear as I get lower on her body. She gasps and I look at her, silently asking if I've hurt her. She just grabs my head and kisses me again. As I kiss her cheek, ear, and neck, I can hear her gasp in my ear, "Love you." That stops me momentarily, but the look on her face tells me that she doesn't realize what she said, so I keep going.

The next morning, I wake up to find Fi still sleeping under my arm. As the night's activities come racing back to me, I can't help but smile. I've never had a more amazing night with a woman. I lean over, brush some hair off her face, and kiss her arm, shoulder, neck, cheek, and finally, as she wakes up, her lips. She smiles at me and whispers, "Good morning." I simply smile at her, and start kissing different parts of her body again. I can feel her laugh as I do it. I love it when she laughs – she rarely does. All of a sudden, I feel her body tense and and I look up at her. "What's wrong, Fi?" Her eyes are dark and I can see that she's in another place. "Fi," I start again, "what is it?" The next words she say makes my heart ache, "You're leaving me. Again."

I sigh as we both sit up and look at each other. "Fi, I'm sorry," I say, "but I have to do this. It's my job, it's who I am."

"How do you know that, Michael? How do you know that you're not meant to be here in Miami with me, Sam, and your mom?"

"Fi, don't start this. You knew that if my burn notice got lifted I was going to go back. I told you that."

"Yes you did," she says and looks away. After a minute, she gets up and leaves me alone in her bed. "Guess you better get moving then. Wouldn't want to miss your flight."

I hang my head. I should've seen this coming. If she just didn't look so vulnerable last night, I would've walked away. Dammit, Fi, why do you do this to me?

"Fi," I start. She just looks at me. "Please don't say anything," she says, "Just go."

"No," I say, getting out of bed and standing near her. I hold her arms, making her stop and focus on me. "Fi," I say. Nothing. "Fi, look at me," I say, raising her face to look at mine. I hesitate before speaking again. "I'm not sure if I want to go back."

She stands there staring at me. "Fi?" I ask, wondering if she heard me. Was I just thinking it? "Fi, you OK?" All of a sudden I see her fist come swinging at me and connecting with my face. "Fiona!" I yell and hold my face in pain. She has one of the meanest punches I've ever taken.

"Dammit, Michael," she says, "Why do you keep doing this to me?"

I face her again, but take a couple steps back. "I thought you'd be happy."

"Happy? You haven't even made up your mind yet. For all I know, you can tell me that you won't go, and then all of a sudden tomorrow I wake up and you're gone. Again!" I sigh. Why does she keep bringing up past events?

"Fi, listen to me. Last night was amazing, and I'm not sure I want it to end just yet." She runs a shakey hand through her hand, stares at me, and sighs. "So what are you saying? After years of telling me that you don't want to be with me and that we'd be no good together, all of a sudden some sex the 

night before you're supposed to leave forever changes your mind?!" She's yelling now. Not good. Better take a few more steps back. "I- I don't know," I finally say, and instantly know its wrong.

She looks at me, and gets very close. Too close. I should be prepared. "Do you want to be with me?" she asks slowly and quietly. All of a sudden, I'm not as certain as I was when I woke up this morning. What if I say yes and she decks me? What if I say no and she still decks me? What if I say any combination of the two and she kills me right here. She can do it to. I know it.

"Fi," I start, and I know she knows that's always trouble, "I'm not sure what I want."

She stares at me, obviously not believing I'm saying what I'm saying. "Well, Michael, give me a call when you figure out what the hell it is you want." And with that, she storms off into the bathroom and locks the door behind her.

As I finish getting dressed and leave, I can't help but think, _What the hell happened?_ I woke up this morning happy, and now I'm leaving my ex's house in complete confusion.

I get back to my loft, and I look at my one packed bag sitting by the door. On top, my plane ticket. One way, to D.C. I look at my watch and realize that I have two hours until I have to be at the airport. Ironic, actually. I wait two years for this moment, and now that it's here, I have two hours to change my mind.

It takes half an hour of pacing, thinking, and weighing options before I come to my decision.

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_When you're a spy, one of the most valuable lessons you can learn is how to bail when a cover isn't working. You say one wrong thing, make one wrong gesture, and you'll die. Knowing how to get out before it's too late is a quality that takes years to perfect. Fortunately, I've been in the spy business long enough to perfect this technique. But that doesn't explain why I'm standing in pouring rain banging on my ex's door._

"Fi! Fi! God dammit, Fiona, I know you're in there! Open this door! I'll break it down, Fiona!" I keep banging on the door, and she's not opening. "Fine! Have it your way! I'll count to three! One…..two…" She opens it. She's standing in the doorway in a pair of jeans and a shirt that's a lot more conservative that I'd have liked, but she looked breathtaking.

"Michael," she says, "What the hell are you doing here?"

I wipe the rain out of my face, and look directly at her. "I've made my choice," I say, and she looks at me. "Well, what is it?" she asks.

I step closer to her, knowing the danger. I take her face in my hands, run my thumbs up and down her cheeks, and say, "You. I choose to be with you." She smiles as I lean down to kiss her. And kiss her I do. She leans back and says, "You know if you chose anything besides me, I would've killed ya." I smile and kiss her again. "I know, Fi. I know."

THE END


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